Becoming Someone Your Not
by TheAlphaWrites
Summary: Derek gets a little too rough with the pack and Isaac calls him on it. He doesn't want Derek ending up like his father. Requested. Stiles/Derek. AU.


**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Requested by anon on tumblr**

_**Beta'd by WithinHerHeart :)**_

* * *

Derek hesitated at the window into Stiles' bedroom, hovering over the window pane as he debated whether or not he should just leave, but then Stiles' honey coloured eyes turned to him, imploring, and the decision was made for him. His steps were silent as he fully entered the room, the strong lingering scent of _home_ and _pack_ overwhelming him, and he closed the window firmly behind him to keep the cold air out.

Isaac, as he suspected, was pressed up against Stiles' side, sleeping like the dead with his head nesting comfortably on Stiles' stomach. Long lithe fingers carefully ran through his reddish curls, the movement comforting and no doubt helped to lull the pup to sleep. The smell of tears, salty and stale in the air, from the drying tracks that ran down the teenager's cheeks made Derek's heart clench with guilt.

Stiles watched his every movement, eyes almost glowing in the darkness, and only succeeded in making Derek feel worse; made him want to shuffle away and whine for forgiveness, like some prepubescent child. He repressed the urge and instead, stood in place and watched his two pack members silently.

Of course, Stiles had to break it. "So Isaac told me what happened…"

Derek winced. Yeah, admittedly, not one of his proudest moments. He had been angry and short tempered, and had taken it out on his betas' during the now weekly training session. He was the alpha, he should have more control than that, but it was one of those days, one that was filled with memories of times come to pass. Usually, he can suppress his emotions for the day, but today he just…he couldn't.

It was the anniversary of the fire and, perhaps most importantly, his mother's birthday. She'd grown up in a home where her entire family surrounded her and, on her birthday, that was her only request, that they all come together to celebrate. Those days were the few times every year that the entire Hale pack were together at the same time. He used to look forward to those days, when everyone would come together and he would get to play chase in the woods with his cousins, Ryan and Vera; eat Uncle Quinn's amazingly mouth-watering chocolate chip cookies, ones that he only made for his sister's birthday; and, in the evening, falling asleep across Laura and his mother because he was too tired to move anywhere else. But now, those times seemed overshadowed by fire and burning and loss.

But he couldn't excuse himself for what he said. He should have known what it would do, how much it would affect them, especially Isaac. At the time, he had been so upset and angry and bitter that he just didn't think about it until Isaac called him on it.

"_Stop it! We're not useless! Not worthless! We're trying our hardest!"_

"_You're hardest isn't good enough!"_

"_Y-you're…you're becoming just like him!"_

_Derek had scoffed. "Like who?"_

_Isaac's gaze had been wide, like a heartbroken child, and filled with so much anger and pain, glazed with harsh memories and maybe a little disgust at the man that was in front of him. "Like my father!"_

Of course, he had gone to Stiles, alpha's mate and pack mother – the only person that would have been able to take all the pain away and make him feel safe once more. And of course, Stiles wouldn't have been able to let Isaac get away with keeping what had happened a secret. No, he would have wanted to know what had made his pup so upset and Isaac would have told him because, with his authority in place, it was increasingly difficult _not_ to obey him.

Stiles reached out one hand towards his mate, silently urging the man closer. Derek hesitated before grasping the limb, steadying himself on the wrap of fingers around his palm, and allowed himself to be led towards the bedside, his feet barely lifting from the floor.

"You should apologise," Stiles advised simply.

"I will," Derek promised.

The teenager seemed satisfied by the response because he nodded slowly, a quirk of a smile appearing. "Good. Now get in the bed."

Derek slotted himself between the mattress and Stiles' body, warmed by close contact with the heat of a werewolf and his sheet that covered his legs. His arm lay across Stiles' chest and his hand rested on Isaac's shoulder, which rose and fell with the cycle of his breathing. The pup whimpered quietly at the touch and his eyes fluttered open briefly. Derek met his gaze over Stiles' shoulder and let out a low noise, a grumble in the base of his throat, that signified sorrow and a plea for forgiveness. Isaac mimicked the noise and snuffled a sign of wary acceptance, before his eyes closed once more and sleep took him.

"I hate your secret werewolf talk," Stiles commented.

Derek snorted his amusement, and pressed closer. He placed a small kiss on the sensitive skin behind Stiles' ear before nuzzling the skin there tenderly. Stiles shivered slightly, automatically inclining his head back to allow better access and he let out a contented breath, closing his eyes. His hand, which had stalled, began stroking Isaac's curls once more.

"Sleep," the alpha whispered his order, his hot breath against his mate's neck bring goosebumps to the skin.

"No using your alpha powers to get me to do things," Stiles complained, yawning loudly as he settled into a more comfortable position between the two bodies. "And don't think you've gotten out of this. Tomorrow, you're going to get Isaac a proper apology and take him out for pancakes at that diner he likes, and then we're going to have a long conversation about how you treat our pups, even on days like today."

Derek didn't reply but, really, he didn't have to. What was he going to do: refuse? Yeah, unlikely. Instead, he let himself relax, perhaps for the first time all day, and clung tighter to his pack, as if to make sure they were still there. He let deep, even breathing - a clear sign of life - lull him to sleep, the smell of _his pack, his mate, his family_, surrounding him.


End file.
